Not Anymore
by AgentOklahoma
Summary: Sam doesn't realise how badly his death affected Dean. Now he does. Post AHBL Angsty!Dean Comforting!Sam.


Not anymore

Disclaimer: I don't own the boys but the plot is mine (sorry if I accidently copied anyone. I swear I'm not doing that on purpose.)

Dean and Sam sat in the Impala, after a particularly violent hunt. Sam leaned against the passenger side car door, resting his forehead against the cool glass, trying to calm his aching head from the blow it took only a few minutes before.

"You alright, Sammy?" Dean asked, turning off his music and looking over at Sam for a moment before putting his eyes back on the road. Sam nodded and let out a weak 'I'm fine', then the car went back into its thick silence. They reached the motel quick enough, dumping the duffle bag on the ground, Sam walked into the bathroom, only making a small noise of agreement when Dean asked for him not to use all the hot water.

Sam closed the door quietly and stood in front of the sink, looking at himself in the mirror. He was pale and a nasty bruise was forming just on the corner of his jaw, that was already a mottled purple and black. He felt his side twinge and he lifted his shirt a bit to see the damage. A deep slash that went from his left hip diagonally up, to just over his ninth rib on his left side. He grimaced at the thought of stitching this up and decided to go get the first aid kit. He pulled his shirt back down and opened the door, taking two steps towards the bag before stopping. Dean looked up from his research at the motel's kitchen table and saw Sam just stand there, swaying ever so slightly.

"Hey, are you alright?" Dean asked, turning in the chair. Sam looked at Dean, but didn't really register him properly. He looked confused, then his eyes closed and he keeled over, cracking his head on the second chair on the way down. Dean jumped up, kneeling next to his brother's unconscious body. He checked for a pulse and it was there, beating on steadily.

"Sammy? Sam! C'mon, wake up. You've got to open your eyes." Dean pleaded, checking to see if Sam had broken his neck when he hit that chair. He hadn't but the bump on his head would hurt like a mother later. Dean looked over Sam for anymore injuries, noticing the crimson stain on his shirt. Dean lifted it and winced, looking over the gash that had started bleeding. Once he was sure that nothing else was wrong, he grabbed the first aid box that Sam hadn't managed to retrieve and started working on the cut. It wasn't as deep as Dean initially thought and he didn't think there was any internal bleeding.

"You idiot, why didn't you say anything when I asked if you were okay?" Dean asked, just wanting a snarky answer from his little brother. Once he was finished working on the stitching, he picked up Sam (as best he could), put Sam's arm over his shoulder and put him on the bed he had claimed earlier, furthest from the door. He opened Sam's eye and checked for a concussion but there wasn't one, thankfully.

Dean stood up properly, and walked back over to the laptop, trying to get some work done, and waiting for Sam to regain consciousness. His mind went back to about an hour earlier, when they were fighting the poltergeist, searching for the moment when Sam got hurt.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN--Flashback time--SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Sam and Dean stood at the foot of the grave of the ghost they were about to 'salt'n burn', Sam pouring in the gasoline and salt while Dean stood watch.

"Let's get his over with." Dean said, watching as Sam finished his part and stood up properly, looking at Dean and nodded. Dean took a Zippo lighter out, lit it and tried to toss it in but he was tossed to the side, like a stuffed doll. The poltergeist appeared in front of Dean. It was a woman, beautiful, tanned, and brunette and had light blue eyes. She had a sneer on her face as she flicked her wrist and sent Dean flying over to another tree.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, and then was thrown into a rock, hitting his head. He stood up slowly, swaying as he tried to regain balance, and then bolted over to his brother who was being choked by the spirit. Sam noticed the Zippo lighter on the ground next to the grave and lit it, tossing it into the grave, pleased at how quickly the bones were burning. The woman turned towards him and let go of Dean, dropping him to the ground. She let out a ghastly shriek and flicked her wrist again, throwing a couple of sharp rocks at him. He dodged most of them but one caught him in the side. He dropped to the ground and held his side, not looking at the injury but watched as the woman disappeared in a cloud of fire and smoke.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN--End Flashback--SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

"Are you alright, Sammy?" Dean asked his voice fading as he left the memory of the event that had occurred minutes ago. He stood up and went over to Sam, checking his pulse. It was still there and his breathing was deep and even.

"Dean?" Sam whispered, opening his eyes and looked at his brother.

"Yeah, I'm here Sam. How are you feeling?" Dean asked going to get the bottle of painkillers.

"Better. My head's killing me though." He admitted, sitting up slowly. Dean walked back over with the Advil and a bottle of water. He handed them to Sam and started checking the wound again. It was red and probably sore but it didn't look as bad as it did earlier. Sam took two and swallowed them with water, wincing when Dean touched a particularly sore spot.

"How does it look Dr. Dean?" Sam said, sarcastically. Dean rolled his eyes and went back to checking if the stitches would hold. It was pretty much fine, but it would still hurt for a while.

"You'll be fine. Be happy I was here to take care of you." Dean said, standing up. Sam's face went grim and he said something that scared the crap out of Dean.

"That's your job, right? Take care of your 'pain in the ass little brother'." Sam said, his hand going to his back, where the scar was from only a few days ago. Dean took a small step back and held his breath. Sam's tone wasn't angry or snappish, it was just tired.

"_It's not even that bad. It's not even that bad." _

_Warm blood on his hand...._

"_Sammy? Sam!"_

_A dazed look in his eyes..._

"_Listen to me, we're gonna patch you up, you're gonna be good as new."_

_Trying to believe it himself..._

"_I'm gonna take care of you. That's my job right? Watch out for my pain in the ass little brother."_

_Closed eyes and cold body..._

"_Sam? Sammy! Oh, god." _

_Waiting for him to wake up, to say something..._

"_SAM!"_

_Gone..._

Dean hadn't realised that he sat down until his mind went back to the current reality. Sam was sitting up and calling his name. He hadn't realised it but he was shaking badly, holding his arms around himself for protection.

"Dean? Say something, please?" Sam was worried now. Dean never looked as scared as he did now. Dean let out a breath and stood up, walking over to Sam, dropped onto his knees and pulled him into a hug. Sam looked shocked for a moment but returned the embrace. Dean buried his face into Sam's chest and let out a strangled sob, still shaking slightly.

"I'm sorry. I should've gotten to you sooner. I should've tried more to save you. I'm _so_ sorry." Dean cried out, holding his brother tightly. Sam rubbed Dean's back soothingly, knowing what Dean was talking about.

"I'm sorry. I'm _so _sorry." Dean said again, tears running down his face. He pulled his arms back and held his necklace in his hands, closing his eyes for a second and seeing Sam, his lifeless body, empty green eyes and pale face. He let out another sob, quieter this time. He was tired but he was afraid if he let Sam go again, he would lose him. Sam pushed himself off the bed and sat next to Dean on the floor.

"Don't be sorry. It wasn't your fault." Sam said, leaning back on the side of the bed, hating that Dean was blaming himself like this.

"I should've been there earlier. I should've saved you." Dean whispered, leaning his head on Sam's chest, closing his eyes, as one last tear escaped before he fell asleep. Sam stayed next to Dean, hating to see his strong brother so broken. The older brother gripped Sam's shirt and whimpered, mumbling incoherently.

"It's alright. You don't need to take care of me anymore." Sam said, stroking Dean's hair until he relaxed again.

_Not anymore..._

_owari_

Kagomegirl326: Wow. My first one-shot. Weird. Hope you guys enjoyed. =^-^=


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